A Hospital in Another World?

Seraina hovered around, asking numerous questions, significantly delaying Garrett’s diagnostic process. What could have been completed in five minutes took over fifteen, and he had barely covered half of it.

Prince Rosterga remained silent, though visibly irritated. After all, one must maintain courtesy towards a distant Elven guest. Besides, it wasn’t as if he had to do anything; sitting quietly and being a good "tool" was all that was required of him.

However, the priests present—

They were overwhelmingly grateful to the Elven Ranger, almost to the point of worship.

"What are you drawing?"

"An anterior chest x-ray." Garrett replied without looking up, his pen moving swiftly across the paper.

It’s pitiful. In the past, patients would go to the radiology department for an x-ray, and by the time they walked back to the outpatient department, the chest x-ray would already be uploaded to the doctor’s computer. The database was filled with x-rays, always more to review than less.

Unaware of their fortune, now, in this world, he had to draw each chest x-ray by hand to accumulate data.

"The hilum shadow is enlarged, and the density is increased... Where is the hilum?"

"There," Garrett pointed with his pen tip to the center of the paper, "between the second and fourth ribs, right here."

This is where the pulmonary arteries and veins, bronchial arteries and veins, lymphatic vessels, and nerves enter and exit the lungs. Any disease in the organs or tissues forming the hilum shadow could cause its enlargement...

Of course, there was no need to explain all of this to Seraina. If he continued, they might have to dissect a dwarf to explain it thoroughly. And Garrett wasn’t sure if the Silver Dragon girl would capture a dwarf out of curiosity.

Seraina looked at the drawing, then squinted at Prince Rosterga. Then, Vigran tiptoed over Garrett’s shoulder to scrutinize the drawing, ran in front of the prince, and compared the drawing meticulously. Then came the second dwarf priest... the third... the fourth... the fifth...

"How can you tell there’s an increase in lung markings?"

"By comparing it with a normal lung lobe."

"Where is the normal lung lobe?"

"Do you see the upper part? Are the markings sparser there?"

"I thought those were the stripes on his clothes!"

Garrett chuckled. The dwarf priests passed by one after another, taking turns. Prince Rosterga’s complexion darkened further, while Garrett watched with a smile, thinking to himself:

Suppress anger, suppress anger... Anger harms the liver, and your complexion is so dark, it’s nearly showing signs of liver disease, heh~~~

Garrett’s pen flew across the paper, completing the lung outlines, then continued with the shadows. This couldn’t rely purely on memory; draw a bit, look, draw a bit more, look again. Although tedious, this was the most crucial part:

Identifying the most severe disease, whether it’s Stage I or II pneumoconiosis, the presence of lung bullae larger than 2cm, signs of tuberculosis, suspicious tumors...

All depended on careful observation and meticulous recording with his pen.

Seraina held her breath, watching from the side. Once Garrett meticulously finished drawing and began writing his conclusions, she leaned in and whispered:

"There are overall dense grade 1 small shadows, distributed across at least two lung zones... What does this mean? What’s dense grade 1? How big are the small shadows? And lung zones... Aren’t there only two lungs?"

"Oh, the lung zones are divided like this, look, from the top to the bottom—" Garrett patiently demonstrated on Prince Rosterga’s body, six heads following his fingertips, looking up and down:

"…Draw a straight line, divide it into three equal parts, and you have the upper, middle, and lower lung zones. Two lungs, six lung zones. Small shadows are shadows less than 10mm in diameter…"

"But the ones you drew look big!"

"Oh, it’s not measured on the paper; it’s compared with a standard x-ray."

"Where’s the standard x-ray?"

Garrett pointed to his head.

Standard x-rays, human ones, were memorized during school and work; dwarf standards were deduced from examining hundreds, maybe thousands, of dwarfs, with Bernard standing behind them with the Endless Ink Pen, secretly observing, summarizing, and imagining...

Alas, it was fortunate he was an emergency doctor, and their department head was strict. As the head said:

"Emergency doctors need to know a bit of everything. If you rely on the cardiogram department for ECGs and radiology for chest x-rays, by the time their reports are out, your patient might already be dead!"

Garrett thought back fondly. If he were gone, he

wondered who would take his place. The emergency department was already short-staffed, having lost two doctors recently. If he were to leave too, they might need the department head to step in— the head was already 63, nearing retirement...

His eyes softened as he let his thoughts wander, reminiscing about his department head’s demeanor. When he came back to his senses, five dwarfs were huddled around him, each holding a notebook, sweating as they drew.

They stood on tiptoes, stretched their necks, and shoulders touching. They drew while holding their breath, careful not to let their warm breaths disturb Garrett.

Garrett’s heart softened suddenly.

—Large Volume Whole Lung Lavage, to him, was just an act of compassion, casually executed; compared to its importance, there were many more critical matters. But for these dwarf priests...

This technique represented the health and lives of their kin.

"You don’t have to draw it like this." He sighed and pulled out several sheets of paper:

"I’ll make copies for you."

Paper fluttered gracefully, quickly stained by ink.

Anterior and lateral chest x-rays, sputum cytology for bacterial culture. Garrett did everything within his power, performing all the tests he could without modern laboratories and equipment. As for coagulation tests...

"Rosterga, make a small cut on your hand—very small, just to see how long it takes to stop bleeding..."

Without modern labs and all their equipment, they had to resort to these primitive methods... What about testing for infectious diseases?

Ah, haha, that would just have to rely on hope that the dwarves’ lives weren’t too chaotic... As for the possibility of infection, after so many surgeries, one more lung wash wouldn’t make a difference.

Regardless, all possible tests were conducted, and the results were generally good. After a whole day of preparation, the next morning, a green vine silently penetrated Prince Rosterga’s lungs.

"So that’s how it is!" The Silver Dragon girl stood by Garrett’s side throughout, occupying the best view:

"Just pouring water in and then sucking it out, huh! Hey, why don’t you pour more? More water would clean it better, right?"

"Miss, that’s the lung! The living lung! Pouring too much would burst it!" Garrett remarked sarcastically, without turning back, addressing the dwarf priests behind him:

"The saline solution must be sterile, otherwise, it could lead to an infection in the lungs—remember, the saline solution must be boiled for half an hour before use. I’ll explain aseptic techniques separately later;

Pay attention to the temperature, when injected into the body, it should be between 34 to 37 degrees Celsius. Too high and it will be uncomfortable for the lungs, too low and it might cause spasms;

Be mindful of the volume of liquid. If uncertain, use Arcane Eye to see if the liquid level is above the bronchus, then use [Detection Magic] to check the lungs..."

What seemed like a simple operation behind him had at least a dozen or twenty key points to consider. From whether the patient should be lying on their back or side, to the precautions during intubation, to the concentration and speed of oxygen delivery...

Each point was crucial for the success of the procedure, and even the patient’s life depended on it.

Garrett really didn’t know how the priests of the Radiant Church dared to perform surgery without understanding any of this—perhaps, they found another technical approach?

The priests of the Radiant Church were frustrated. Archbishop Jeroni even more so, berating Bishop Klind with fury:

"What were you thinking? I told you to be careful, to avoid causing death, to choose controllable people. How could you still mess up this badly? Huh? Are you that lazy, not monitoring the patients for a few days after the lung wash, ensuring they don’t run into problems? Can’t you even do that?"

If Garrett heard this, he would definitely applaud. Any patient with a potential risk must be hospitalized for observation for a few days, admitted to the ICU if necessary. Complications from lung lavage could be due to technique, but not keeping them for observation is definitely an attitude problem...

"The one who died, his brother wasn’t devout. You didn’t know that?! Now the issue has blown up, we can’t even preach outside. How will you make amends?"

"Your Excellency Archbishop." Bishop Klind knelt on one knee, his head bowed low. Even with tumultuous emotions inside, he dared not look up in anger, maintaining utmost submission:

"The urgent matter now is to ensure our candidate’s success in the king’s election. Once the election is successful, the Black Rock tribe, with the new king’s influence, will smoothly enter the court. Then, we can slowly influence these dwarves, spreading the glory of our Lord."

"That sounds easy! —How do you plan to do it?"

"In the election battle

, candidates, besides the armor made in advance, are forbidden from wearing other equipment or receiving caster buffs. However, it’s not impossible to prepare in advance to enhance the candidates’ combat effectiveness."

"What do you mean?" Archbishop Jeroni’s gaze was cold and steady. Bishop Klind briefly raised his head, catching a glimpse of his expression, then bowed deeply again:

"The Mark of the Devout. —For this, I am willing to offer my blood."

The Mark of the Devout, born from magical tattoos and a barbarian tattoo technique, has been enhanced over years of conquest and plunder by the tribunal. This tattoo stimulates the recipient’s body, enhancing strength, agility, pain tolerance, and resistance to negative effects...

The effect’s intensity is directly related to the tattoo’s size. The only issue is that its primary material is the blood willingly offered by a clergy member.

"Since you’re willing, then let’s proceed." Archbishop Jeroni’s voice was indifferent, showing no joy or sorrow:

"In the coming days, seclude yourself for prayer, adjusting your mental and physical state, trying to come closer to our Lord."

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